


Fallen Quite Hard Over You.

by lexiesdilemmas



Series: Spenlex Ficlets [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, wow this is short but hey i do my best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiesdilemmas/pseuds/lexiesdilemmas
Summary: This was how you left: the lights were still on, the bed still unmade, the house so quiet, so still, the TV still playing.This was how you wanted to leave: like you never left.





	Fallen Quite Hard Over You.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leviathanchronicles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviathanchronicles/gifts).



> Another little ditty that I wrote with no idea what I was doing. Enjoy, I suppose.

There’s always the bad nights. Hard nights, where things don’t go over easily, and Lexie goes to bed with a sick feeling to her stomach. She knows what his job means to him. Lexie would go crazy if she didn’t get rid of her shaky hands in the OR, or if she couldn’t scan charts and find the mistake others hadn’t. She knows what it means to love your work. But on nights where she has to kiss Spencer goodbye, hold her best brave face as he leaves with a plane into dangerous situations? It’s hard. There’s that possibility hanging over her head, each and every time he leaves, that he might not come back this time. This time, he could be the victim. And it’s been quite possible many times. The time, for example, when he had a case in Seattle, and next thing she knew he was being rolled in on a stretcher and she had argued so  adamantly, so aggressively  to be allowed in on his surgery.  _ You can’t work on family, Dr. Grey. Sit down _ . And waiting in that familiar sitting room was _hell_ itself. Many a day, she’d walked into the waiting area as a surgeon and told families that their loved one had died. But with the tables turned, she felt helpless, foot tapping endlessly on the linoleum floor and her nails bitten down to nubs. She doesn’t deal with it well when he gets hurt. 

Tonight, they’re waiting it out, laying on the couch with her head on his shoulder and a blanket thrown over the two of them (the TV quietly humming in the background, not that either of them are really paying attention). When he checks the time and lets out the smallest of sighs, Lexie knows he has to go or face the consequences of missing his flight (and they’ve been through that one before). With a puff of breath, she reluctantly sits up, rubbing her eyes like a tired child. The couch is so warm, and the walk from it to the door is so not. His suitcase is already by the door, and she’s sure they’ll hear a cabbie honking outside any minute now. For a moment, she just looks at him, drinks his familiar energy in before leaning up onto her tiptoes to pass on a brief kiss. The night ends with a, _“I’ll see you in a week, love,”_ when it really should never have ended at all.

Where there are bad nights, however, there are good nights. Nights where they both have hours of free time, enough to go out on a dinner date. Time to spend laughing, walking downtown where the streets are lit by early Christmas lights. There’s soft laughs, softer kisses, and quiet  _ “where’s your Christmas spirit, honey?” _ ’s. The good nights are the easiest, where there’s no goodbyes. It’s so easy to love each other, to fall right into the ease of gentle touches that don’t even have to be thought about. Her arm through his, or his fingers intertwined through hers. They simply _fit_. And on nights like that, with the window open to let a cool breeze in enough that they can tangle together and not overheat, with the light on in the bathroom and the door cracked just enough, with the promise of an easy morning, they know that this is where they’re supposed to be. T ogether.


End file.
